


Significance

by providentialeyes



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Poetry and Prose, Pre-Canon, Tender Sex, arthur 'i'll have you dick in my ass before our first kiss cause that's less intimate' morgan, does that matter if it's my own lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23077087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/providentialeyes/pseuds/providentialeyes
Summary: “Too much for you?”“What?”“The feeling,” Charles whispers, fitting his hand between them to tap Arthur’s sternum, then move his hand down and squeeze Arthur’s cock, “Either of them.”
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Comments: 17
Kudos: 179





	Significance

**Author's Note:**

> built off a drabble i posted on tumblr a long ass time ago  
> the poem is new, along with the later like 800 words or so

don't let the heavy drag you down

don't let the soil fill your lungs

it ain't a guarantee, nothing is

but maybe you'll burn a lil while

tender, tinder, spark, stoke

affection fuel to see you flare

stretch, lick the underbelly of satiety

burn, burn, beg to be nursed by someone's interest

beg, beg, crave significance

-

The space between their bodies is warm. 

Radiating from one, and bouncing off the other. 

They’re both _warm._

Charles’ fingers dig into his hips and Arthur’s a little hunched over, as he straddles the younger man. 

The scars on his body, both recent and decades old, burn. 

Charles had guided him through the motions. 

Showed him how to clean himself for this.

Showed him what kind of oils to use, what worked in a pinch. 

How to press and twist his fingers inside himself. 

How to pry himself open. 

Where to push and rub and the spot he could pin down with the blunt tips of his fingers. 

Arthur’s hand on Charles’ chest flexes as he lifts himself up, the younger man’s cock in his other hand. 

“Go slow,” Charles murmurs, watching with heavy-lidded, heated eyes. 

Arthur huffs quietly. 

“You think I’m just gonna split myself?” Arthur grumbles. 

It’s just nerves, though. 

Insecure in more than one way, unfamiliar in this situation. 

Arthur guides the tip of Charles’ cock to nudge against his asshole. 

Charles’ thumbs rub soothingly up and down the soft flesh that’s hidden his hipbones over the years. 

Arthur meets the younger man’s eyes, takes a deep breath and lowers himself. 

Charles’ chest expands, once, deeper than each of the breaths before. 

“Damn,” Arthur hisses. 

Against the stretch, the feeling. 

Foreign and only thought of distantly. 

Until Charles and he started getting closer. 

Closer. 

So close now, as Arthur’s nails dig into Charles’s sternum and he drops his chin to his chest with a groan. 

As Charles’ length is fully within him, and Arthur is seated in the younger man’s lap. 

His heartrate sky-rocketing. 

Sweat at his temples. 

Arthur tries to speak but all that escapes him is a small, strangled sound.

Hoarse and catching in his throat. 

Charles’ hands run down Arthur’s thighs, squeezes, fingertips pressing and dragging hard enough to leave raking, red marks, only broken up by silvery scar tissue here and there. 

“Charles,” Arthur manages as a groan, his face screwed up tight, jaw clenched. 

“You alright?” Charles asks lowly. 

“Fine,” Arthur breathes in deeply and shifts, tilting his hips, leaning further over Charles’ chest. 

Their eyes catch, meet, and Arthur flusters hard, cheeks flaring with warmth. 

Charles moves his hands back up and wraps his fingers around the backs of Arthur’s hips. 

Holding firmly as he presses his heels into the ground and fucks up into Arthur. 

The older man gasps, biting it off and bowing his head, hands slipping up to Charles’ shoulders as he curls in on himself slightly. 

“Good?” Charles whispers. 

“Yeah,” Arthur’s cock hangs heavy between them, hard in testament to Arthur’s enjoyment, “Shit, _yeah,_ Charles.”

“Hey,” Charles says softly. 

Arthur takes a moment, then lifts his head, meets the younger man’s eyes. 

Charles shifts one hand to the side of Arthur’s neck and pulls him down, so their faces are close. 

Brushing their lips together, their foreheads, he presses his thumb into Arthur’s pulse. 

“Don’t hide,” Charles murmurs against the older man’s lips. 

“I…” Arthur swallows nervously, eyes flicking over Charles’ face, every scar and spot, so close and so… Accessible. 

Attainable. 

Real, this is _real._

This isn’t a half-brained, two-too-many-drinks in the night far-fetched kinda-

Charles kisses him and Arthur is so glad they’re alone. 

The sound he makes is that of a wall crumbling, a last-defense shattering. 

He grinds back and feels Charles smile into the kiss. 

It ruins him, for the idea that this could be a one-time thing, that they could write it off as a product of stress and adrenaline and needing an outlet, finding one in each other. 

His chest _aches._

Arthur cups Charles’ jaw on each side and pulls away enough he can look down at the younger man. 

Charles’ eyelids heavy, eyes _heavy._

Loving. 

“Damn,” Arthur gasps and drops his face into the crook of Charles’ neck, lifting up and rocking back down, clenching around the younger man’s cock. 

His own rubbing, caught between their bellies. 

Charles laughs softly, lowly, gently and Arthur lightly squeezes Charles shoulder in protest. 

“Too much for you?” 

“What?”

“The feeling,” Charles whispers, fitting his hand between them to tap Arthur’s sternum, then move his hand down and squeeze Arthur’s cock, “Either of them.”

“Shut up,” Arthur mutters insincerely and Charles takes advantage of the stretch of Arthur’s throat, presses his lips to the skin over Arthur’s pulse as he strokes the older man off. 

Arthur makes a weak noise, Charles shifting to be able to lift his hips with each rock of Arthur’s downward, getting them into a rhythm. 

Arthur’s small noises devolve into gasps and hitched breaths, one hand quickly moving down to trap Charles’, stilling it on his cock, moving them to the base of his length as he muffles a cry against Charles’ skin.

Coming undone. 

Charles wraps his other arm around Arthur’s waist and grinds up into the older man with deep, quick thrusts, panting into Arthur’s neck before following, over the edge, cock jerking as he spills inside of Arthur. 

They’re both quiet, for a few minutes, then Arthur gives up all effort to hold himself up, laying down on Charles, causing the younger man to grunt then huff a laugh. 

Charles adds his other arm into the effort of holding Arthur close, listening to the older man’s breathing even back out. 

“You’re too much,” Arthur whispers. 

“Hm?”

“Too much,” Arthur repeats, a feeble whisper, “Too good.”

“... Compared to who? You?” Charles asks, voice laden with amusement.

Making it very clear to Arthur what he thinks of that sentiment.

“You’re- You-” Arthur huffs and gives up. 

Going quiet, settling down. 

Pressing his face harder into Charles’ neck and just breathing. 

Feeling, for once, that he’s significant. 

Not for his strength, his sharp-shooting… His loyalty, his fealty. 

Just his existence. 


End file.
